Not too well-known landscape, improved flood.
Only tree crowns are visible, spiers and domes.
I want to say something, choking, with excitement,
but of the many words one “was” survived.
So reflected in the mirror for old age eyebrow and bald head,
but no face, without saying - muda.
Throughout, solid, blurry, spoken and written,
above is a torn cloud and you are standing in the water.
Most likely, the scene is somewhere in raw Holland,
even before the introduction of the dam, lace, named de Fries
or van dyke. Or in Asia, in the tropics, where we fell
rains, loosening the soil; but you are not pic.
Clear, what accumulated for a long time - per day or per year, drop by drop, whose
fresh qualities dream of new salty ha.
And just right to raise the child on the shoulders with a periscope,
to make out, how enemy ships smoke in the distance.